Maybe It's You
by icefire-lioness
Summary: Hermione's POV in the weeks coming up to the Yule Ball. Hermione isn't your average girl, but even she gets scared sometimes. And falling in love, or at least in lust, can be very, very frightening. Hr/Ron, Hr/Viktor, slight Hr/D - I'm sorry! Not my fault
1. Chapter One: Burning Questions

Looking at myself in the mirror, I could understand why no-one would call me pretty.

I wasn't_ ugly_, exactly, but…well; I suppose I was more…plain.

I put my hand up and fingered my hair mournfully.

There was no denying it. It was a terrible mess.

I suppose you must be wondering why I care.

Obviously, I, Hermione Granger, have never gone around _displaying_ the fact that I can be self-conscious about my looks, but, after all, I am a girl.

Being smart, having two best friends that just happen to be males – I suppose it never really lent itself to the 'glamorous' image. No, it was always too difficult a concept to deal with.

Intelligence is a trait I can handle – merely by reading and exercising my_ brain_, I can keep it in shape. Unfortunately, beauty is a little different. I won't deny that I have tried.

What little girl _hasn't _tried on her mother's clothes and fumbled awkwardly with lipstick? For a while I was like any other ordinary little girl, but by the time I turned nine or so, my priorities had…shifted.

After discovering books, the idea of spending time on my appearance seemed to me to be merely wasted learning time.

Most people may find this a curious concept, but reading, to me, was like…water to a dehydrated person. I _revelled_ in it.

Looks became secondary and eventually nothing to me.

I leaned closer to the mirror and inspected my eyes.

They weren't anything special – dark brown, quite large. A little too far apart.

My eyebrows were messy; if the hair on my head was anything to go by, there wasn't much time for facial hair.

My eyelashes were quite dark, I suppose, and rather thick. They did make me look permanently startled, however.

I frowned as I studied my skin carefully. It wasn't awful, I'll grant you, nothing like poor Eloise's. But I had none of the dusky perfection of Parvati's skin, nor the traditional English Rose that made up Lavender Brown's face.

I suppose it is a universal curse for a girl to compare herself to other girls, but it wasn't something I was used to. Why was it, then, that I had taken so vigorously to looking in a mirror that had practically corroded from lack of use?

I would have to say, looking back, that it all began when Ron and Harry were discussing their lack of dates for the Yule Ball. It had been all anyone could speak of for…days, weeks maybe. I never had taken that much notice of the 'event', because I highly doubted it would be that much of one for me. Well, I had had my hopes, but they, obviously, yielded no results. I have learnt, now, not to hope for things that will not appear. It's a silly superstition, hoping. Almost as bad as praying, but less obvious.

Anyhow, Ron and Harry were in the Common Room, talking. I would just like to point out here that my hopes had been at an almighty high that day. I don't know why, but for some reason I just kept imagining that Ron would ask me. He, being Ron, was absolutely oblivious to the fact that I was there and waiting – _blistering_ for him to invite me to accompany him to the ball. Right then, even 'just as friends, you understand?' would have sounded heavenly.

So I suppose their talking merely set me off. Not to mention how insensitive they were being. I was studying for Potions, and Harry and Ron were, as usual, doing nothing constructive whatsoever. I expect they were anticipating using _my_ study notes for the Potions test, and, well, who really could blame them? They _would_, after all, be using them. Just as they did every time. Harry's egg really had gotten me going though. I told him he would look a right idiot if he didn't try to work it out, but of course, Ron took his side, and the whole thing fell to pieces after that.

I had attempted to get back into studying, but something Ron said made me very, very mad. Which started a whole chain of events, when I think back on it.

I only caught the last bit of Ron's sentence, but it was enough to send any reasonable person off the edge.

"…don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

I tried to hold it in. Truly I did. But it just came bursting out of me.

I let out a splutter of indignation and turned to him.

"A pair of _what_, excuse me?"

Ron didn't even have the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Well – you know." He said, shrugging (_shrugging_! The nerve of him!), "I'd rather go alone than with – with Eloise Midgeon, say."

Well, that was just the last straw, wasn't it!? That boy really needed to learn some manners. My feelings of good will towards him were vanishing extremely quickly. At this rate, I wouldn't even _want _him to ask me to the ball!

"Her acne's loads better lately – and she's really nice!" I said loudly.

Harry made little shuffling motions out of the corner of my eye. I could tell he was embarrassed. Well, if he never stuck up for me…

"Her nose is off-centre." said Ron.

I bristled. What an irritating little berk! It also brought back completely thoughts about _my _looks, which didn't help matters much.

"Oh, _I_ see." I glared at him. "So basically, you're going to take the best looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

Ron scratched his neck. "Er – yeah, that sounds about right."

I growled under my breath.

"I'm going to bed." I snapped, and swept off to the girls dormitories without another word.

When I reached my bed, I pulled the curtains closed and whimpered into my pillow.

How could he be so tactless?

Lavender and Parvati were asleep, thank goodness, because I don't think I could have put up with the insipid diatribe that they had going on most nights as _well _as my own thoughts.

The next morning came too quickly. I decided that instead of facing Ron I would go to the library. I hoped that this early, Viktor Krum and his legion of giggling fans wouldn't be around. They had been hugely distracting – their silly laughter could be heard from miles away. I never could understand why Viktor hung around the library so much, though. The way he stared at the book he was reading, and then around the room, and then back to his book again, made me wonder if, perhaps, he didn't know how to read. But what reason would he have to be in the library apart from reading? I walked slowly into the library, trying to work out in advance if he was in there, but I could hear nothing. This was when I best liked the library. It was so quiet that I could let my other senses take over and merely smell the knowledge and feel the weight of age and magic settling around my shoulders as I sat down.

I had been sitting there for perhaps half an hour when I felt the strange tingling sensation that presents itself when someone is staring intensely at me. I looked around and the feeling seemed to vanish.

I shook it off and returned to my reading, but a minute or so later felt it again. This time, when I looked behind me, I saw Viktor sitting a few tables behind me, his head in a book. I sighed deeply and rolled my eyes.

Certainly his fans weren't around at the moment, but give them an hour or so…

I tried to concentrate on my book again, but the letters swum in front of my eyes and my thoughts kept sliding back to a certain famous Quidditch player.

Eventually I realised that I wouldn't have any luck with him around, so I began to gather my belongings, ready to leave.

As I stood, a hand touched me lightly on the shoulder.

I spun around in shock and saw him standing there, a smile on his face.

He was very tall. It was rather a shock to have him standing so close, as I had never really had the chance to look at him properly.

I'm ashamed to say that I had paid him less attention than many others would have, merely because so many people found him fascinating. It's a problem I've had for a while. If something or someone is seen as 'mainstream', I find myself turning my nose up at it, as though it must be beneath me. Silly, really. Because, there must be a reason things are mainstream, mustn't there?

He was looking at me very seriously, and when I glanced down at his hand, which was still on my shoulder, he removed it with a small smile.

I couldn't help but smile back.

"Hallo." He said, looking a little nervous.

I nearly laughed out loud, but managed to merely smile encouragingly.

He was nervous, talking to _me_? It was amazing, and very unexpected.

He seemed to become a little less nervous with my smile, however, and rushed onwards, tripping slightly over his words, his broken English really rather endearing.

"I vas vondering…vell. I have seen you here, in the library…nearly every day, I am thinking?"

I nodded, embarrassed but strangely pleased that he had noticed.

"Vell, I vatched you for a vile. I came in here a few days, yes? But I vanted to speak to you, and I never got the courage to come over…and, vell, you are vairy pretty, no?"

I blushed._No_! But I couldn't say that to him.

"Thank you." I said, my eyes on the floor.

He smiled and tilted his head to one side, as if curious about something.

He studied me for a moment longer and then he stood very straight and tall.

"My name is Viktor." He said, holding out his hand. As if I didn't know already!

I put my hand in his, rather larger, hand.

"My name is Hermione. Hermione Granger." I said, and we shook firmly.

He had very nice hands, I thought. They were quite rough, but he handled me very softly.

He held my hand for a moment longer than entirely necessary and I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks again.

How embarrassing! Not only was he holding my hand, but now I looked like a tomato! Eurgh.

He let go of my hand, grinning widely, and I kept my eyes trained on the floor.

His next words nearly gave me whiplash, I looked up at him so fast.

"I vos vondering if you had a partner for the Yule Ball?"

I stared at him for a moment and he looked anxious.

I nodded slowly, my eyes never leaving his face.

Had he,_Victor Krum_, just asked me to the Yule Ball? What had happened to the world?

His brow was furrowed and I realised I had nodded. _Nodded_. What kind of a fool was I?

"Vell, if you already have a part…"

I interrupted him quickly, my face going bright red again.

"No! No, no. I…I don't have a partner. I was nodding...er, yes. Yes, if you're asking me."

Oh Merlin, he _was_ asking me, wasn't he? He wasn't merely asking for a friend of his or something…oh no, had I made a complete fool of myself? Again?

He smiled. "Really? That vould be vonderful, Miss Granger. I vould be honoured if you vould accompany me."

I nearly melted with relief.

Instead I just smiled and sagged a little.

"That's…that's…great! That's wonderful!" I said, trying very hard not to do something to embarrass myself.

Which is why, of course, I did.

As he held out his hand for mine again, I tripped – I don't even know on what – to come close enough to take his hand.

He caught me quickly – seeker reflexes, I couldn't help thinking – and held me for a second before placing me on my feet.

I blushed so hard I wouldn't have been in the least surprised if nearby books had caught fire.

"Sorry." I mumbled, my eyes on the floor.

He seemed to find it amusing and chuckled.

"That is alright, Miss Granger. You are vairy cute, yes?"

I couldn't help but smile.

He was so…_nice_. He just seemed to exude confidence and compliments seemed to come as second nature. I doubted most of them were true, but it was nice to feel appreciated, anyhow.

I leant up and kissed him on the cheek, running out before I could do anything more to embarrass myself.

I couldn't believe it! Viktor Krum! I had a date for the Yule Ball!

I hugged myself as I ran down the corridor and nearly fell over as I did so.

Wait until Ron found out.

XX

A/N: The title of this fic comes from the song 'maybe it's you' by The Carpenters; listen to it, or read the lyrics and you'll understand why. It's a beautiful song.Anyway, I hope you liked it, and the next chapter should be up soon. If you don't review, I will set my grandmother on you. She will bite you, and I will not try to stop her. Seriously though, it only takes a few seconds, and it makes my day. It's the courteous thing to do, so DO IT.

Love you.

icefirelionessxxx


	2. Chapter Two: Kisses

AN: Hello! I've updated! Yes! And it's long, too...so...that's good. I hope you like it; tell me what you think. icefirelionessxx

-

The halls had been decorated more stunningly than any other year, and I could tell that it was because of the visitors.

I hadn't spoken to, or even seen, Viktor Krum since the morning he had asked me to the ball, two days ago.

I supposed that he was busy with his clue, and in a way I was grateful that I hadn't seen him yet. After all, I really had no idea what I was doing – what if he tried to kiss me…or…well, anything?

I had known that eventually I would be dealing with this, and it was exhilarating, but for the moment I was happy to stay innocent and naïve of those things. After all, I was only fourteen, and he was practically an adult.

What if he wanted things from me that I wasn't ready to give? I knew that I would never let him do anything more than I was ready for, but it was slightly worrying to think what I had gotten myself into.

Still, it was all terribly exciting, and he was handsome, famous and _foreign _– in more ways than one – and I was the girl he had chosen!

I still hadn't told Ron, because I had recently thought that perhaps he might tease me, and as well as that, how much more thrilling would it be to unveil myself, as it were, at the Yule Ball?

So I had kept quiet, and I think that it was a good idea, apart from the fact that it also meant I couldn't tell anybody else.

I gazed out the library window, watching the snow drift slowly down from the grey sky, my book on my lap.

A nervous cough interrupted my musings, and I turned from the window, smiling as I saw Neville standing across from me.

"Er, hello Hermione. I was…uh…"

I smiled kindly at him and gestured to the chair across from me.

"Hi, Neville. Sit down, if you want."

He flushed a little and sat down, not really looking at me.

"Um. How are you?" he asked after a pause, running a hand through his hair.

I looked bemusedly at him, confused by his nervousness.

"I'm fine. Did you want to ask me something?"

He flushed again, staring at the table.

"Er, yes, rather. Did you…did you have a date for the Yule Ball, by any chance?"

My stomach plummeted. I hated to let him down like this.

"Oh, Neville, I'm really sorry. I'm already going with someone. Maybe…hey, why not ask Ginny? She really wanted to go the Yule Ball."

Neville looked a bit upset, but brightened considerably as I mentioned Ginny.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Thanks Hermione. I'll see you around."

I smiled at him and he turned around, walking off quickly. I really hoped he wasn't upset. After a moment, I turned back to the window, my chin in my hand. The sky looked beautiful; soft and grey.

"Let Longbottom down gently?" a snide voice said from behind a nearby bookshelf. I jumped pathetically at the sound, and then turned to see Draco Malfoy emerging from around the corner, carrying a heavy stack of books. He set them down loudly on my table and stretched upwards, letting an indecent amount of muscled stomach come into view as his shirt shifted.

"None of your business, Malfoy." I sniffed, turning back to the window.

I heard him sit down in the seat Neville had recently vacated and stared determinedly out the window again. It was absolutely infuriating, the lengths he had been going to annoy me recently.

In the last few days he had been turning up in the library and basically talking me down within earshot, as though I gave a damn.

"Are you actually going with someone?" he asked then, and I was surprised to hear that he actually sounded curious.

I looked over at him, leaning back in his chair, his hair unreasonably mussed, an intriguing look on his face. He almost looked…nice. Which was not correct, I knew. Ha! Draco Malfoy, nice? The idea was laughable.

"Do you actually think I would tell you?" I asked sarcastically, mocking his previous words. He scowled a little.

"It isn't as though I care or anything." he said after a brief pause. Then he added, as though he had just remembered, "mudblood." I snorted, and opened my book again.

After a few more minutes, he sighed loudly. I ignored him. He sighed again. I turned to look at him, frustrated.

"Are you quite done, Malfoy? I would like some peace and quiet, and your little girly sighs are annoying."

Malfoy looked outraged. "My sighs are not _girly_! And I wasn't sighing _anyway_. I was _exhaling noisily_."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Go exhale noisily somewhere else, then. I'm trying to read."

He huffed irritably and stood up. "Alright, I will." he said loudly, obviously not understanding how ridiculous that sounded in light of the previous sentence. He picked up his books and flounced off to another table, while I watched, amused beyond belief.

It always surprised me how much I liked the little spars we engaged in. There was something solidly _same_ in the arguments. It was nice to know that some things never changed.

-

"Could I talk to you, Ginny?" I asked, looking down at the redhead as she struggled with her Potions essay. She sighed irritably and screwed up the parchment, making as if to throw it in the fire. I caught her hand and looked at her, my eyebrows raised.

She let out a breath and smiled at me. "Sorry, Hermione. I'm a bit annoyed at the moment. The ball, you know."

I smiled sympathetically and she took a deep breath, presumably to calm herself down. "Right. You wanted to talk to me?"

I grinned, remembering what I had wanted to tell her.

"Yes, I did. It's about the ball and…my partner." I grinned again, and she squealed.

"Ooh, that's fantastic! Who asked you?" she asked, her voice lowered in considerate reverence.

I sat down next to her, my grin fading slightly. It would have been so nice to say 'Ron', but that wasn't happening. Instead I braced myself for the onslaught that was sure to follow, and whispered "Viktor Krum."

As predicted, Ginny looked completely stunned, and then the questions started.

How does he know you? Does anybody else know? What about Ron? (This question staggered me and I could only stare at her, wondering how she knew. Eventually I answered 'he didn't ask me, and I don't think he plans on it.' in a small voice, and Ginny had looked suitably sympathetic.) Has he kissed you yet? How did he ask you? Where did he ask you? _When_ did he ask you? Why haven't you told me sooner? Are you utterly, utterly pleased? What are you going to _wear_?

Eventually the questions had slowed, and she looked at me, as if in a new light.

"This is brilliant, Hermione. You must be so happy."

I smiled. Yes, I was happy. As much as I was sad about Ron, I was ready to show him just how much he was missing.

-

I sat at the Gryffindor table, absolutely furious. Harry and Ron had promised to meet me for dinner, and they weren't here! I was sitting by myself, eating dinner, while all around me, talk of the Yule Ball swirled maddeningly.

None of the Gryffindors at the table where ones I knew, as they were all either older or younger, so I was forced to put on a brave face and wait for my two idiot friends. Not even Ginny was here, as she generally ate much later.

Viktor wasn't anywhere in the room, and the other Durmstrang students were hardly sociable. The Beauxbatons girls weren't even worth looking at.

After I had finished eating (and fuming), I stood up, moving out into the corridor and up to the stairs. The sounds of people began to become fainter as I went up onto the next floor. I kept my eyes on the ground, thinking angrily of the two boys. It just annoyed me, that was all. They hardly noticed me except to ask for help on homework, and I wanted to be more than that to them.

As I was turning the corner, the sound of footsteps right in front of me broke through my reverie. I looked up just as Draco Malfoy barrelled into me, sending me straight to the floor. I glared at him as he smirked, still standing, exasperatingly.

He put out a hand and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet without thinking why he had done so. There was a moment of awkward silence in which he looked at me curiously, and then I started to walk away.

He grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "Granger." he said, and I looked at him, wondering what he was up to. He pointed upwards, and I saw a small bunch of mistletoe just above us.

I looked mystified, I'm sure. "What are you saying? You want to kiss me, or something?"

He shrugged, smiling, his hand still on my arm. "Hey, it's an experience I've never had before. It's Christmas. Think of it as a present from me to you."

I snorted, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp. He was strong though, and it seemed I wasn't going anywhere.

"That sounds like a crappy present, Malfoy. I'm leaving now. Think of it as a present from me to you."

He smiled again, holding both arms now. "Sure. We can try that. But first I'm giving you _my_ present."

I think my brain shut down or something. If it was working, I'm sure I would have pushed him away when he leant down, rather than leaning up to him.

He pulled me towards him, his arms strong. There was a loose lock of blonde hair in his eyes, and he tossed his head, trying to move it. I laughed, and then he kissed me.

There were a few minutes where I didn't think – I don't imagine that either of us were thinking, really – and I kissed him back. It didn't seem to matter that he was stealing my first kiss from me; he was good at it. His lips were soft and surprisingly gentle, and they tasted of chocolate. When he put his tongue into my mouth, a sensation not unlike my knickers melting from my body ran through me.

What really shocked me though, I think, was that he didn't seem disgusted at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it just as much as I did, which, I suppose, was a good thing.

After he had pulled away, his breath hitching in his throat, he looked at me as though I was someone he had never seen before and stepped backwards.

"Well." I said, and then didn't know how to continue. He looked at me again, running his hand through his hair.

"That was an interesting experience." he said, his voice quite low.

I nodded, unable to look away from his eyes. They were a lovely colour; I caught myself thinking, and then shook my head inwardly.

"Er." he said, and then looked away.

"Let's just blame that on hormones." I said, leaning against the wall, surprisingly calm about what I had just done.

He nodded, looking a bit relieved. "Right."

"We shouldn't speak of it." I said sternly, and he nodded, his hands up.

"No, no. Of course not. Not speaking of it."

There was a pause, and then he moved quickly towards me, pushing me up against the wall. Then his lips were on mine again, his tongue was in my mouth, and that lovely knickers-melting sensation was filling me again. Well, at least he wasn't speaking of it.

-

After a half hour or so we had staggered apart, our hearts beating rapidly, our cheeks flushed, our hair mussed. There had been an awkward moment, and then we had both said "hormones." and rushed off in opposite directions.

I had reached the common room with minimal fuss from my brain (thankfully having had the good sense to duck into the bathroom and tidy myself up first), but as soon as I saw Ginny with Ron and Harry, the previous events of the evening came back with full force and letters of indignation. To slow the rush of blood to my cheeks, I went over to join them, looking over at the boys.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" I asked, wondering why they were laughing.

Ginny waved a hand at the two boys. "Because – oh, shut up laughing, you two – because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!"

Harry and Ron stopped laughing immediately, while I tried vainly not to smile.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny." said Ron sourly, glaring at his sister.

I tried to stop the corners of my mouth from twitching upwards as I put on a haughty tone.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron? Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone _somewhere_ who'll have you."

It occurred to me, in a delicious sort of way, that there were now three boys who had shown me that they were quite willing to have me. It was a nice thought.

But Ron was staring at me, in the same manner as Malfoy had stared at me after our first kiss.

"Hermione, Neville's right – you _are_ a girl…"

"Oh, well spotted," I said acidly, wondering if it would be appropriate to kill him right now. Ginny was looking at me sympathetically.

"Well – you can come with one of us!"

This was ridiculous. As if I would have gone with him once he talked to me like that even if I _didn't _have a partner!

"No, I can't," I snapped.

Ron looked impatient. "Oh, come on. We need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has…"

I blushed now, wondering why he always had this effect on me. It was idiotic. I _knew_ that I was wanted by other boys! Why did I have to care what this one thought?

"I can't come with you, because I'm already going with someone."

"No you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh, _did_ I?" I said, my eyes flashing dangerously. What a little prick. "Just because it's taken _you_ three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one _else_ has spotted I'm a girl!"

Ron stared at me, and then, as if coming to some fantastic conclusion, grinned again.

"Ok, Ok, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

I bristled, wondering whether it was actually possible for a person to live with as little brain as Ron seemed to possess.

"I've already told you!" I said, very angrily. "I'm going with someone else!"

Then I stormed off towards the girl's dormitories again, wondering if this had become some kind of habit. Ron says something idiotic, Hermione yells, Ron digs a hole, Hermione yells, Ron sticks foot in mouth, Hermione yells more, then storms off to girl's dormitories. Yes, I'd say that it was a habit.

After about ten minutes or so, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and flung myself into my bed, pulling the curtains around me. Lavender and Parvati entered the room then, and I heard them giggling madly.

"-going with?" Lavender said, sounding curious. I was sure that I did not want to know why.

"I don't believe she's going with anyone. I mean, who would ask her?" Parvati said nastily, and they both laughed again. I had a sinking feeling they were talking about me, and buried my head in my pillow.

"I can't believe Harry asked you to the Yule Ball." Lavender said wistfully, and I nearly fell off the bed in shock. _Harry_ asked _Parvati_? What had the world come to?

Viktor Krum asking me to the ball, Draco Malfoy kissing me, someone saying no to Harry Potter (I guessed it was Cho Chang, the little bint) and now, Harry asking Parvati Patil to the ball!

The rest of the evening blurred into giggles and whispers, and I fell asleep with the image of an upside down world spinning in my head.

-

I saw Viktor the next day. He was in the library again, and he was waiting for me. As I walked up to him, he grinned and motioned to one of the empty strips between bookshelves.

To be quite honest, I was a little worried. What if he meant to kiss me? Still, I had had practice now, a thought which bought a traitorous smile to my mouth, and I didn't want to be seen with him yet, in case it got back to Ron.

I sidled into the little corridor and looked up at him.

"Hey," I said, and he smiled, looking down at me.

"Hello, miss Granger. Are you vell?"

I smiled, my heart flipping. It was strange that he had this effect on me, already.

"Yes, thank you. How are you?"

He leant his back against the bookshelf, squinting mischievously sideways at me.

"Very vell, now that I am near you."

I blushed, looking at the floor as my mouth tugged upwards into a grin.

"Thank you." I said softly, and then he said in a low voice "vould it be alright if I vere to kiss you?"

And even though I felt a strange jolt at the thought of it, I looked thoughtfully at him and leant up to place a soft kiss on his mouth.

He pressed me gently against the bookshelf and then proceeded to kiss me breathless.

There was no denying that he was a good kisser, but I found myself comparing him to Draco Malfoy (which was completely wrong, in and of itself) and judging him lacking in something.

Still, it was very good – the opposite of good, actually, in that he was hardly being innocent about it – and I found myself whispering such clichéd things as 'harder', 'oh, no, don't stop that', and 'there, there, no…no, oh yes' on more than one occasion.

When we emerged from the bookshelves forty minutes later, looking considerably disarrayed and flushed, I can promise you, we were both out of breath and had to struggle for words.

"That vos…vere did you learn…thank you," he said, and I laughed at how pleased he looked. I reached up and neatened his shirt and tie as best I could.

"Thanks back at you. You were…quite fantastic."

We smiled at each other again, and then he put his hand over mine.

"Vould you like to come to the lake tomorrow? Ve could…have a picnic," he said, and I grinned as his eyes flashed impishly. I was fairly sure that there would be no picnicking happening, and that was really quite fine with me. I kissed him quickly and started to walk off, saying over my shoulder "yes, meet me at one. The beech tree."

-

I was surprised when I found out that the Yule Ball was so near. The weeks had flown, quite literally. Viktor and I had kept up our clandestine little meetings, and, to a lesser extent, so had Malfoy and I. There was something deliciously bad about both boys, but Malfoy was the epitome of bad, and I liked it.

I don't know if it was just the hormones, but neither of us seemed willing to stop what we were doing until we were out of each other's sight, at which point we (or at least, I, as I'm not entirely sure what Malfoy thought, though I presume he thought the same as me) would tell ourselves how incredibly wrong it was.

And then we would see each other in some dark corridor and forget all about what was wrong and focus only on what was right. Which, I'm sure I don't need to tell you, was the knickers-melting thing that Viktor had never quite seemed to master.

And Viktor and I had met up quite a few times as well, when we would pretty much repeat our meeting in the library.

The funny thing was that as many times as I told myself that not only was it wrong to be chain-snogging a Slytherin (and not just any Slytherin, but _Draco Malfoy_), but I also happened to be doing so at the same time as I was in a 'relationship' with Viktor Krum (who I was also having a lovely time with), I still somehow managed to tell myself that it was perfectly acceptable and morally upstanding behaviour to do so. I even managed to tell myself this after my thought process bought up the issue of Ron.

Anyway, Ron was totally ignoring the fact that I was still quite literally gagging for him to stop being such a stupid idiot and admit that he liked me, and had turned to his new sport of Trying to Figure out Who Hermione Is Taking to the Yule Ball.

"Hermione – who are you going to the ball with?" Ron asked, just after I had snapped at Fleur Delacour's latest remark. I was still painfully aware of the fact that Ron had asked her to the ball, even if she _had_ said no. I frowned at him.

He kept springing the question on me in the hopes, I suppose, of startling me into answering by asking when I least expected it. However, as he had been asking me at least three times a day, one could hardly say I didn't expect it whenever he asked.

"I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me." I said, and Ron frowned back.

"You're joking, Weasley?" said Malfoy, behind us. "You're not telling me someone's asked _that _to the ball? Not the long molared Mudblood?"

I smiled slightly at the sound of his voice. I hadn't told him about Viktor, of course, so the subtle note of anguish in his voice was probably due to that. We hadn't really talked much, anyway.

But he knew that things weren't changing for us in real life, so he kept up the harsh words. It softened them a little, I suppose, to know that in a few hours he would probably be pressing me up against a wall and telling me how lovely I was.

Harry and Ron both whipped around, but I winked at Malfoy, waving to somebody over his shoulder. "Hello, Professor Moody!" I said loudly, grinning as he turned pale and jumped backwards, looking wildly around for Moody.

We might like to snog, but it was still fun to taunt him. And he reacted so well.

He looked embarrassed when he saw that Moody was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you Malfoy?" I said scathingly, knowing that I would pay for the comment later on tonight, and greatly looking forward to it.

Malfoy scowled, and I giggled as I turned away, Ron and Harry laughing beside me, completely oblivious to the fact that Malfoy had just slipped a note into my hand.

-

AN: Well, it has been a while since I've updated, and I'm terribly sorry for that. Also, you might have noticed that the tone of this chapter is a bit different to the last, and I couldn't really change it, which was annoying. Anyway, I hope you like it, and it doesn't seem too awful. The D/H was completely accidental, I promise you, and I'm sorry! Still, it works, right? Tell me what you think! The next chapter is the Yule Ball itself. Are you ready for it? Yay!

Please leave me a review. I'm insecure and mildly neurotic, and feedback helps that. Slightly.


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